Her Morning Elegance
by Bleeding Writer
Summary: "Soon she's down the stairs, Her Morning Elegance she wears. The sound of water makes her dream, awoken by a cloud of steam. She pours a daydream in a cup, A spoon of sugar sweetens up..." Olicity. Rated M for adult situations.


**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Arrow. Sadly.**

_Branched out and tried something different whist in the mist of a smut war (go on my tumblr if you want to know what that is about, link in my profile). This is what happened._

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><p><em>"Soon she's down the stairs, her morning elegance she wears…"<em>

Running his fingers over his lips, he smiled as he watched her little toes scratch against her naked calf as she made them their morning coffee. His eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of his button up shirt that drowned her frame to the edges of her blonde hair. As if on cue, she pulled her hair to one side, exposing her long and beautiful neck, little red love bites from the previous night's activities dotting her skin.

He couldn't help but think of how cute she was as she droned on about computer developments and algorithms he didn't understand. Besides he was too busy paying attention to the shirt rising up higher on her legs when she stood on her toes and reached for the mugs in the cupboard.

Images of what they did the night before flashed behind his eyes as he tilted his head to see the crest of her naked cheeks. When she dropped down at turned to face him, he blinked as she realized that she was talking to him.

Lifting his head, he plastered an innocent smile on his face. "Hmm?"

"The theory that I have on this algorithm that I…" She trailed as she noticed his eyes drop to her legs again. "…have. Were you checking out my-? Are you checking me out right now?"

His response time was a little slower as he dragged his eyes back up her body. "What?"

"You were totally checking me out," She smiled in spite of herself, slapping her hand on the counter before she went back to making their coffees.

She didn't even hear him get up, let alone come up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her close to his chest.

Guess that was her penance for dating a vigilante. Quiet and swift movements… Not that she minded. She secretly enjoyed them.

"Can you blame me?" He whispered in her ear, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he held her, rocking their hips together.

She bit her lip as her lips curled into a wider smile, one hand holding onto his bruised ones as she poured in the sugar for their coffee.

"I just… Trying to get used to all of this. Us. Still," she stammered, turning around in his arms and facing him.

She held out his mug for him. "Coffee? Just how you like it, or rather, how I like it. I don't really know how you like your coffee. I just made it for you the one time when I was your secretary 'cause you were feeling down-

"I don't really want coffee right now, Felicity," he said, his hands grabbing at her hips and pressing his hips against hers, his need prodding at her thigh.

A blush covering her face as she blinked wildly at him, her lips forming an 'O' and put his mug aside on the counter behind her.

Grinning at her, he cupped her face and pressed his lips to hers. So soft her lips were but so strong did she kissed back with little hands running over his chest and scars and brands, never flinching or pausing over them. Accepting them and their stories. His stories.

_Him._

He loved that about her. Her trust and acceptance, and her faith in him was unparalleled to any force he had come against. It filled him and built him up, pushing away the dark shadows of doubt and regret. Lighting the dark and bleak corners of his twisted, lonely mind with her golden hair and a morning elegance she possessed well beyond the rise and fall of the sun.

His own little ball of light, she was. His personal sun to his forever dark moon.

He sighed between their kisses, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue over her lips, which she welcomed happily. Something about Felicity's gentle but determined nips and licks always roused a hunger and inescapable urge in his veins. Dropping his hands to her hips again, he hoisted her up on the counter and positioned his body between her legs.

Her delicate fingertips caressed his face and ran through his hair, scratching ever so lightly that it made him shiver. His arms wrapped around her, like possessive vices, pulling her as close to him as he could.

He wanted to melt with her, to get drunk and drown in her light. To make the outside world fade away and have it all just be her and him and the sway of their bodies.

Putting a hand on the back of her neck, he kissed her passionately while his other hand travelled from her hip to her thigh, squeezing and caressing the tender muscles there. Subconsciously, she opened her legs wider to him as they kissed with his hand going further and further up her leg. Calloused and bruised hands pushed the shirt up on her hip as he moved closer and closer to her femininity and cupped it.

He swallowed her gasp as his fingers ran slow strokes over her clit in the way that he knew made her squirm. Small but pleading whimpers from her throat thrummed against his tongue as his slow strokes turned into circles. His teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging it and pulling it before massaging it again with his own lips.

Dropping his damp kisses to the swoon of her throat, he stroked her moist slit with a few more circles that she so loved and dipped two fingers inside, a keening whine tumbling from her pink lips. She pulled and panted at him, nails scratching along his scalp and back as he teased her closer and closer to the edge. He groaned as he hardened against her thighs. Her moans and sounded like heaven against his drums. Too sweet for his side of reality.

He teased for a few stolen moments, sprinkling tongue-heavy kisses on her exposed chest. She tried to reach for his erection but he brushed her eager hands away; he wanted this to last a little while and be consumed by the intimate link instead of striving to climax.

He wanted this moment to savor.

"T-The couch…" She whimpered, the breath passing over the receptive skin on his shoulder and glided down the bumps of his spine.

Without a moment of hesitation, he obeyed, his lips reaching up to kiss hers as he removed his fingers from her core and gathered her small body in his arms. He guided her legs to wrap around his waist and tucked his hands under the back of her knees, bringing her up on his hips, and carrying her to the couch. As gently as he need would allow, he dropped her on the couch before covering her body with his, easing himself between her creamy thighs.

His fingers peeled away at the buttons of the pale blue shirt that separated their pre-bliss sweat covered skin. He pressed his steel stiff length against her slit, rubbing against her clit in slow strokes as he pushed the offending material off her shoulders.

Her hips rolled against him and pulled at him in need. He smiled at her eagerness, teasing her for a few seconds longer before succumbing to his need for her. Pulling at the back of her knees again, he turned them so that she sat on his lap, sliding her up his legs until her cherry-tipped chest met with his. With a small wiggle of her hips, she swallowed him and arched her back to the delicious angle as a sigh drained from her lips.

Oliver sucked in air through his teeth as they melted together, thinking briefly that nothing felt as good as her body did. With bodies warm and heart racing, his grip on her hips tightened as he helped build a rhythm, rocking her slowly against him, his lips falling and kissing every inch of skin he could taste.

Something between seconds and hours passed with the gradual buildup of swaying bodies and lingered lips. Her head lolled forward until their brows touched, spilling her golden tresses around them like a veil to muffle the rest of the world.

In this moment, the world didn't exist. There was no city or persons needing saving. They were not Team Arrow. The Arrow didn't exist.

It was just them and skin and lips and the morning light flooding through the curtains.

Kisses matched the flow of sex, slow and deep, setting the nerve-endings on fire. But the fire of bliss boiled under his skin and Oliver locked his arms around her waist and took over the tempo, thrusting up into her a little harder and faster. Her little mewls grew louder as his name stumbled out from her lips.

"Oliver…Oliver… _Oli_…" His name never sounded so good.

He pulled his lips from her skin as her muscles twitched and clamped and pulled around him, signaling her peak of pleasure. Pushing her hair back, he witnessed the moment of dance over her face.

Freshly bitten and swollen lips parted. Blue eyed blinks of bewilderment with dilated pupils. Choking on her whimpers as her walls fell down around him like the Walls of Jericho.

"So beautiful…" He mumbled out as the vibrations of her release brought on his.

Forehead touching forehead and harsh breaths clashing into each other, Oliver absently stroked her hairline as their orgasms simmered away and the world trickled back into focus. Her hum of satisfaction vibrated against his chest as her lids fell shut.

"We should _not_ drink coffee more often," He rasped.

She chuckled, her eyes opening and nodding against his head. "Yeah… Maybe next time I won't actually make the coffee."

He snickered against her skin, holding her a bit closer to him and basking in their post-coital bliss and the essence of her morning elegance. Kissing the tip of her nose, he sighed.

There was no doubt in his mind that she was his golden sun to his dark moon and she could chase the shadows of his soul away.

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